Star-Crossed
by rokusan23
Summary: Their love story in different life-times. [Jack Frost x Queen Elsa] A series of writing experiments.
1. Chapter 1: Man in the Moon

I never really embraced the idea of crackships before because they're painful.

Though I'm not sure if I'll make this a multi-chap (I never really finish 'em). I think I just wanna run through very long one or two shots or short stories. English isn't my mother tongue so pardon me for any mistakes. I try my best to be extra critical about my grammar but some does tend to slip every now and then. But let me know what you think, ya? REVIEW!

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything (literally) and they all belong to their respective conglomerates.**

**The plot, at least, is mine. Also characters that you don't think belongs anywhere.**

Not Beta-d. Anyone who wants to is welcome.

I dedicate this:

To my valiant and loyal rabbit, Maximo Aurelius Von Figaro (Fifi for short) for sitting next to me on the floor and keeping me company as I shut out the rest of the world while I wrote this. Also my inspiration; in Japanese myth, bunnies live on the moon and make mochis, though this fic has nothing to do with them. Maybe.

To Vinnie and Rambo, RIP, the internet bunnies that always made me smile.

The internet; you have everything I need. EVERYTHING.

To the Jack Frost x Elsa fans; keep on believing, brethren!

To Cali, I miss you. Stop shutting me out with your 3DS game. I don't want to be someone you used to know. I'm trying not to go all Nikai on you.

To Sheena, for encouraging me to do this even if you don't really like this stuff.

For Arialene (author of the Frostbitten series), for being awesome.

**-x-**

A very long time ago; whilst the Earth was a youngling and barely had any children, though smaller than its sibling – the moon had its own advanced civilization. They were exponentially intelligent but highly traditional; they found the harmony between magic and technology, and were the centre of their everyday lives.

They were nested inside a colossal but ancient Three-Layered Dome (_Externus_, _Medius_ and lastly, _Penitus_) or _The Sanctum Sanctorum_, almost deemed as a silent deity that mothered and protected them from the harsh lunar terrain outside her barriers made of energy in bright hues.

It was as big as an entire nation and graced the dark half of the moon's surface – the side that faced away from the Earth. _The Outer Dome _is or _Externus_ is the barricade that shields the inner sections from the falling astral debris of _Spatia_. _The Middle Dome_ or _Medius_ is what composes the bioatmosphere that are essential for _The Sanctum Sanctorum_'s ecology. _The Inner Dome_ or _Penitus_ had its own mountains and coniferous forestry up North; the long West was barren tundra; the lush tropics were settled in the far East; while the Lunarians built their foundations down in the evergreen South; each region was blessed with its own flora and fauna where countless species has been identified and categorized.

Their cities was lighted and brought to life by runes and crystals that were embedded with magic – all connected to wires and cables, cogs and pegs, copper and tungsten, oil and steam – all those big and small complicated whatnots that powered a young Lunarian's night lamp. Their bustling roads were paved with brilliant marble, granite, sandstone and other precious minerals; homes were carved from pristine white stones, some were of modest wood.

They have massive towers, enormous buildings, and gigantic bridges for their use and purpose for industries and trade. All of them conscientiously and tortuously carved with prayers and holy rites for protection and providence in their own magnificent parlance.

Lunarians are almost identical to Earthlings in the physical aspect but they have definitive features while the Earthlings vary; they have striking blue eyes in sundry shades, snow-white hair that darkens to ashen grey with age and a permanent pallor on their skin. Some were Adepts, Lunarians blessed with magic _within them_, regardless; none saw themselves above the other; all had one tongue, one culture and one kingdom; and thus they nurture the deepest sense brotherhood and value it above all.

A Lunarian would never have any ill intent; therefore, they were compassionate and benevolent – regardless of their rank and social standing. They were long lived so they were patient, diligent and had no reason to be greedy. _Most of them anyway…_

And if you're wondering, of course they're looking after their Earthling cousins; as it would seem that they flourish rather slowly because their physiology is very limited; they have observed that Earthlings have shorter life spans – surprisingly less than a hundred years, they tire easily and require feeding more frequently.

Understandably, Earthlings are a lot more self-centred because their time is inadequate to achieve what is truly needed to be done. They have developed this psychology that their life is fleeting, which is somewhat bitterly truthful, and that they're in a race against _time_.

Taking pity, The Lunarians have taught them language, art and politics – along with farming, fishing and animal-husbandry. All Lunarians can understand Earthlings as the basis of their language derived from them, strangely, the Earthlings modified their speech to create a chasm of elitism against their brothers and - no matter what variety the Earthling spoke, they always understood the Lunarians.

Still, with the _All-Seeing-Eye, _a magical pool of viscous fluid, carefully nestled underground the Moon Palace, a _The Watcher_ observes and judges what Earthlings lack.

_The Watcher_ then reports to the _All Father_, The Moon King, through _The Archives_ after which He shall send another batch of _Messengers_, armed with scrolls and tomes to educate or aid their rather short lived counterpart.

These visits were made possible by complex mantras, magic and machinery – and their mode of transport, _Columna Lucis_ – located within the area of _All-Seeing-Eye_, aptly named because a Pillar of Light appears at the location they desired to stay at. The Earthlings, of course, were fascinated. Men from the farthest heavens descended that brought gifts and knowledge on how to manage and tend themselves, how to cultivate crops and build their own nation.

These periodical visits were long sought after by the Earthlings; they created patterns in crops and vast lands visible from the skies, gargantuan monuments that point skywards, immortalized on temple and castle walls – all in high hopes would entice the heavenly beings – they were enthralled by the stories of the _Messengers_ about _The Sanctum Sanctorum _and was the basis of their perceived Utopia; the Lunarians were set in stone to make it infrequent, however, or lest be the Earthlings grow dependent. The Earthlings insisted to worship the _Messengers_ as deities, to win favour and hopefully bring them along to their home.

Which was not uncommon, after all, the _Messengers_ were not immune to the mysterious and powerful force of love. It was highly discouraged but not forbidden, they would bring along wives and husbands from Earth to live with them on the Moon – if they choose to live the rest of their longevity in loneliness in exchange for transient happiness.

Again, Earthlings live less than a hundred years, a span of time that means almost nothing to a Lunarian – whom most, by preference and culture, mate for life.

**-x-**

_And this is where our story begins…_

"You are allowing your son to gaze upon the _All-Seeing-Eye_, My Lord King?" the hooded entity mused, "He is but a boy, a young sapling of three centuries."

The wise King glanced at _The Watcher_ and reserved his daunt, no matter how many times the King had seen _The Watcher_, quite the unnerving fellow. He was, or at least he sounded masculine, a hooded figure in a black robe with a golden sash festooned with the obscure symbols of the cosmos – and that would be the best way to describe him. If you examine him close enough, the inside of his cloak was a void where light cannot even pass.

The mid-section of _The Watcher_ was made up of eyes of different colours, highly peculiar because Lunarians always have Azure irises. He also adorns the _Minos_ horns sprouting from his head, though the King is uncertain if the horn is an ornament or _actually sprouting from his head._ He had four ghastly arms; the outer two which are perpetually at a right angle and always held the bright orbs _Helios_ and _Aega_, which represented the light and dark; his inner arms are those one would normally use.

It was a sight to behold _The Watcher_ drink tea, his rather delicate but just as ghastly inner arms intricately preparing tea, daintily holds the cup with his littlest finger raised and brings about the rim to his void and spills it inside. He also had two pair of grisly legs; the athropic inner ones was in a permanent lotus or crossed-leg position that peered out of his cloak and thus the outer pair was those, again, one would normally use. Another sight to behold was to catch _The Watcher_ jog in place; _"to keep myself fit"_ were his exact wording.

"You are aware of how _relentless_ my son could be when he wills to," defended the King, "He absolutely insists that he simply must come along with me."

"I suppose not even his own Father is safe from the Prince's charms." _The Watcher _countered with a slightly delighted tone, "Oh, the many hearts that he will break."

"Hopefully, none."

"Very well, I shall expect the both of you in the afternoon, My Lord King."

"Oh, please. I shall have none of that, _Watcher_." The King declared despite of himself, "Address me as Theodor as I should be."

If _The Watcher _had a face, the King thought he would have smiled as for his many eyes may have squinted in glee, or so he would like to assume. Theodor had known _The Watcher_ all his life, just as his fathers before him. Lunarians may have long lives, but they were just as mortals as the Earthlings.

_The Watcher_, as it would most likely seem, he concluded to be immortal.

"My Lord King, I am but a subject…" _The Watcher_ replied as he knelt – his athropic forelegs getting in the way of his outer ones, "…sworn to loyally serve your direct lineage as long as you find me a purpose."

"And you have served very well," The good King smiled warmly and then slowly frowned, "Although I must warn you that my son is all too fascinated with Earth so kindly be patient with his inquiries."

"Of course, there is much to know," _The Watcher_ hummed, then suddenly all of his eyes settled at the pit of _All-Seeing-Eye_, "Pardon me, My Lord King. Your brothers have been restless as of late."

"That must be one of _his_ many undoing."

"I shall let you know once I have found that scoundrel."

With all the regal grace he was meticulously ingrained with, _The_ _All Father_, stood proud and tall although his old heart shattered. The Earthlings have well indeed been very _restless_; their passion for glory, riches and conquest has consumed their hearts and are gradually purging their own kin.

It also did not help that _The Damned_ was fuelling their fire. He bid farewell to his old friend and _The Watcher _uncharacteristically proffered an informal wave goodbye; knowing that he will call for a more detailed report later on. The cavern of the _All-Seeing-Eye_ deep underneath the Moon Palace caught the slightest sounds of his steps and embellished them in a crescendo of echoes bouncing off the cold granite walls.

What was his son longing to see?

**-x-**

_The Watcher _contemplated as he carefully scrutinized the scene playing on the surface of the viscous pool, his many eyes never take a single wink and his stance unmoving, his own personal form of art after ages of mastery – complete stillness. The Earthlings from the different regions have begun their skirmish of blood, rape and violence. How dare they regress back to the uncouth barbarians the Lunarians have long withstanding inculcated them _not to be?_

The entity thought about the young Theodor and how more _upset_ he is going to be after he files in the accounts of his observations at _The Archives_. _The Watcher_ elicited a brief chuckle despite himself; Theodor abhorred being labelled as _young_ as it made him feel blatantly fragile, unworthy and wet behind his ears.

Then again, The Moon King's entire living epoch could never tantamount against his _aeons_ as _The Watcher_ could easily name every patriarchal monarch that ever honoured The Moon Palace.

He mentally detached himself from grotesque scenario emanating the _All-Seeing-Eye_ and allowed himself a moment of peace; reflective over The Moon King as a doting grandfather would. Time has definitely moulded the once rambunctious sapling into a sturdy man worthy of his birthright; his silver hair in a slick and dignified pompadour graced his once tufty head, his chiselled jawline and stubborn cleft chin was ensconced in carefully trimmed voluminous facial hair, his robust eyebrows seemed to be permanently furrowed, his bright Azure irises radiate from his critical almond-shaped eyes, his aquiline nose always held high due to his prominent regal posture. He was built like a bulk of a man battered and saturated in intense manual labour with broad shoulders and thick limbs although his strapping stance exuded authority and supercilious gait demanded respect.

The Prince definitely has a long way to go.

_The Watcher_, again, this time pondered about the current heir to the throne. He had his reservations, at first, regarding the _willingness_ of the Prince to inherit the title and the responsibilities that came along with it; the tedious obligation take charge of your own kingdom and also uphold the interminable commitment to prevent the Earthling's impending decadence. It was not as if the Prince verbalized his reluctance, however, his actions proved slightly otherwise.

The Prince was just as rambunctious as his father during his salad days, perhaps even more. He always had this mischievous glint in his beautiful Cerulean eyes and had this boyish smirk that always gives away that he was up to no good. He was tall and lean, not to mention devilishly handsome; deep set eyes, wind-blown snow-white hair, his father's nose and stubborn chin without the cleft and thick beard; he also, of course harboured a much youthful face.

He was also a powerful Adept to the Cold; he could lower the temperature of the moisture or air and freeze everything around him, an ability he fully utilized for his pranks that he usually gets away from. He was confident, charming and charismatic; _The Watcher_ is convinced that the sapling could get away with murder if he wanted to, if not already.

Don't be mistaken, the Prince is not incapacitated or indolent for he has had adventures of his own to test his mettle as a man that lasted half a century. He roamed the vast _The Sanctum Sanctorum_ during this sabbatical and broadened his knowledge of magic, crystals and runes; his ability as a Winter Adept as well as understanding the living, breathing Kingdom he will take charge someday.

He mingled with his people to know how it is like to live and work as they do. He also faced the beasts of the North, East and West plains; visited ancient ruins to learn about the past and history of the earliest Lunarians, and mulled within himself on what it would take for him to be King. He came home as a hero and gave his bounties of conquest to the poorest.

In spite of his mischief, the Prince cherished a caring heart, as evidenced by his recurrent visits.

**-x-**

_About that…_

"Good morning, _Watchy,_" said a deep, enthusiastic voice from behind, the damp walls echoing all around them, "How is she?"

_The Watcher_ has not been _completely _honest with the King; his son has frequented the underground cavern of the _All-Seeing-Eye_ many times in the past. That news shouldn't really surprise anyone with the Prince's notorious reputation and all. _The Watcher_ is rather quite impressed that the sapling has not been caught, not once, granted that the grotto is restricted to any other living soul except the ruling monarch.

But the Prince is as cunning as he is impish, a resourceful rascal that _The Watcher_ looks forward to see how different his regime would be. _The Watcher_ swiftly changed the scenario of the _All-Seeing-_Eye to what the sapling was longing to see.

"Ah, Lord Prince Jackson, I did not hear you enter," he delightfully replied.

"Of course you didn't," the young man leered and waved, "If you did then that defeats the purpose of my secret passage way. And please, call me Jack."

"I suppose that is so, Lord Prince Jack," _The Watcher_ chuckled a bit, "No matter how hard I try; I could never seem to find the entrance where you sneak in."

"And with my good fortune, you never will, _Watchy. _Just 'Jack' would do fine." Prince Jackson tatted, clasping his hands together, "Father agreed?"

"Yes, he did."

"Excellent!" he happily exclaimed, "So, as I was saying, how is she?"

Again, if _The Watcher_ had a face instead of an empty void under his hood, he would have had a despondent mien. He had sworn to loyally serve the _direct _lineage and that includes the descendants, no matter how rebellious they might be…

...even if they are _dooming themselves_.

"She is as you last saw her, Lord Prince."

The young man approached the viscous pool, in three hundred years he still had the physicality of a young adult, though maybe the mentality of an adolescent. With a huge and genuine smile on his face, he peered in and gazed longingly at the image of a breathtakingly beautiful woman with long and braided platinum blonde hair, enchanting Sapphire cat-like eyes adorned with long lashes, an adorable button nose, smooth and fair skin lightly showered with freckles, full rose lips and a sultry slender figure that sat upright and listened attentively to the exceedingly boring scholar that lectured extremely dreary and dry political science.

Jackson took a deep breath as she answered the scholar's challenging question with ease; precise and concise, his chest swelled with pride and letting her voice penetrate his memory as if hearing it for the first time; her melodious tone rang in his ears and sent a fusillade of flutters in his heart.

_The Watcher_ couldn't remember if he was ever human, being alive too long does tends to make you forget things; however, he is all too aware of what a man would look like when he is deeply and hopelessly in love.

_Oh, no._

"That's my Elsa…", and the corners of the Prince's lips rose into a warm and wistful smile.

**-x-**

"Elsa if she were a girl? That is a beautiful name, my love," The very pregnant Queen of Arendelle mused while holding her husband's hand, "It means _'truth'_ and we will never have to hide."

The First Crown Princess Elsa of Arendelle was born to royal parents of rival Kingdoms; of what began as a clandestine tryst of their own romantic tragedy; upon the revelation of her pregnancy, the union was distastefully shunned by their immediate families but was warmly welcomed by the citizens – it was the new dawn of peace and prosperity – and in the end, their kin were forced to swallow their pride and toss their deeply rooted bitterness aside to accept their marriage or lest threaten a civil war among their subjects who were tired and weary of the scuffle and tussle they exchanged back and forth for an unrecorded number of decades.

That is until, _The Damned_, who perversely glorified himself in fear and chaos slipped unearthly poison into Her Majesty's evening tea. The severely ill Queen's royal family was about to declare treason and begin another bloody war armed with only the suspicion for the grief-stricken King.

_The Watcher_ saw this with the aid of the _All-Seeing-Eye_ quickly scampered and left the cavern for the first time to personally inform The Moon King about the meddling of _The Damned_ instead of painstakingly communicating through _The Archives_.

"Hey, _Watchy_!" Prince Jackson called out as he slipped through his passage way, "I've been meaning to ask you about this crystal _thing_ I picked up at the Centra ruins… I did check the old tomes first and it said something about _'Lunar Tear' _and I _know_ it heals everything but I just wanted to be sure. There's also the end part I can't translate. I even ripped the page out so you can read it," The Prince stared at the page in dread, "Father is going to murder me," The young Prince paused and scanned the cavern, "_Watcheroo_, where are you…?"

Though it wasn't his first visit here, the First Crown Prince Jackson of the Lunar Court was perplexed with the absence of _The Watcher_ as he_ never_ leaves the _All-Seeing-Eye_ and the _Columna Lucis_ unattended.

Curious to what might have set off the faceless entity to flee, the young man apprehensively peeked at the playing scene; a very pregnant woman was losing her life and vigour by the second while her body was slowly being covered and consumed by Black Sand, which was apparently invisible to the sight of the Earthlings.

Black sand?

Traces of_ The Damned._

"They'll never make it in time," as the Prince drew his eyebrows together in determination.

Jack didn't waste any time to think second thoughts as he fluidly manoeuvred _Columna Lucis_ he was taught years ago. The beam of light pierced through the ancient Three-Layered Dome and almost blinded the castle guards that garrisoned by the gates. He was a little bit disoriented and suddenly felt like he was apprehended. He was being roughly manhandled by the guards until an elderly scribe came running down the hallway and demanded them to release him.

"He is of the _gods_," the elder chastised and pushed the clueless guards off him, "Don't you _see_?"

"W-Where…?" Jack tried to keep himself from hurling.

"Have you come to save our Queen, oh glorious one?" as the elder tried to pull him up, _albeit a little too fast_.

Jack hurled.

The guards couldn't help but snicker at the sight but dared not prodded further and anger the usually prickly stuck-up scribe. It was rather peculiar to see such a pale young man with white hair. And they have indeed heard the stories of heavenly beings but scoffed them off now as myths and legends; after all, it has been such a long time since they last visited.

Could it be true?

Jack coughed like a dying man before steadying his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, trying desperately to regain his bearing. He was trying to remember what he came here for.

What was it again?

_Oh, yes…_

"T-Take me to the w-woman with the B-Black Sand…" he meekly said, still rather unsettled.

_Oh, drat…_

Earthlings can't see the Black Sand of _The Damned_.

_Oh, Damn._

"Black Sand?" the elder inquired.

"Just take me to the sick woman!" Jack growled, "_Hurry!_"

The elder scribe led to the grand bedchamber while the guards assisted the foreigner. They were doubtful if the man was alive because he felt so _cold._ The guards weren't just sentries, they were seasoned warriors who have witnessed too many deaths from the last wars and they know all too well how fallen comrades - _cadavers_ - feel like.

"Sire!" as the elder barged open the grand French doors.

The King of Arendelle stood bewildered, how dare they bring forth a drunken man? Have they no respect for his weak wife and dying first born? He's about to lose his sanity with all the grief and anger eating him from the inside out. The death threats and declaration of wars from his in-laws are almost insanely welcoming. The King's eyes narrowed as they entered and the guards gulped as they settled the young man on a chair.

The King was a formidable soldier himself and a brilliant tactician that earned their solid loyalty and respect, but was also known for his ruthlessness. Surely it was off to the gallows if all of these commotions were for naught. The Queen was unaware of everything that happened around her. She continued to breathe shallow and laboured, her grip on her husband's hand tightening.

"Gimme a sec," Jack said with his head down, his elbows rested on his knees and still breathed heavily, "Just give me a few moments to catch my breath. _Whew._"

The King glared at the guards and they whimpered, then his glower caught the eye of the scribe who stood significantly straighter and pointed at the stranger's hair.

Odd.

The King's eyes widen; could it be true?

"My apologies, Blessed One," the King sincerely said as he bowed his head.

"Gimme some water," Jack said as he finally looked up, still gasping, "Gimme me a glass of water quick!"

"You heard him!" The King commanded, "Give him some water!"

"Give him some water!" the elderly scribed parroted with a little more air of authority, earning him a series of hateful scorns from the guards as they quickly paced out of the room.

Jack looked at the poor woman, she was about to be fully consumed by the horrible Black Sand. He glanced at the King and immediately felt his fears.

This needed to end soon.

Or else.

The guards came back shortly with a glass of water which Jack instantaneously took, he reached out to his pocket and pulled out the _'Lunar Tear'_. If his translation of ancient Lunarian Centra from the page of the tome he ripped off is correct it would have been…

_The Lunar Tear is the pure and absolute crystallized magic energy of our Mother Moon._

_It is very rare and often sought after by many healers for its healing properties are infinite and may be magnified if enhanced by an Adept._

_It is considered the universal antidote by which cures all known Lunar and Earthly poisons and venoms._

_Its antidote is very easy to prepare, just dilute in any clear solvent._

_Caution: if consumed by a…_

That is how far his translation got but honestly, that was all Jack needed. He embedded the crystal with his magic and gingerly placed it into the water where it rapidly dissolved; slowly the glass was covered with frost, his magic. He handed the glass towards the King, he nodded in understanding and graciously accepted. He gathered his wife into his arms and said,

"My love, I have something that would make you feel better."

The Queen's weary eyes wandered aimlessly as if trying to find the voice that spoke. She decided to trust what she could remember was her beloved husband's loving voice. She felt a rim push against her lips and by instinct drank the cool, sweet water that seem to revitalize her from the inside.

She finished the entire glass and did instantly feel better. She let out a contented sigh and as she was laid back down by her husband back to bed with an apparent look of relief on her face.

Jack saw the Black Sand slowly ebbing away from the Queen's petite body. The King had silent tears in his eyes as he tenderly kissed his beloved wife's forehead.

He was still rather disoriented from his hyper-speed traveling and was deliberately taking its toll on him. He had one last long look at the loving couple before slipping into the cold caress of oblivion.

**-x-**

Jack opened his eyes and was alarmed by his unfamiliar surroundings. He rubbed his temples to sooth the aching throb that seem to aspire to split his skull wide open. His blue coat with white trimmings and even darker blue trousers were gone and replaced by a simple dress shirt and black pants. He sat up and took note of his environment all the while flicking through fragmented memories, trying to figure out whereabouts was he.

He walked over to the grand French door with intricate floral designs.

"Must be a family crest," he mused, all too familiar with the significance of heritage and the symbols they pride themselves with, then suddenly everything clicked, "Oh yeah, I wonder how's the Queen?"

He opened the door slightly ajar and saw a battalion of maids running back and forth. He broke into an entertained smirk as he saw the guards from yesterday sprinting along with some of them.

Every so and so, a handful of young maids would glance at him and throw into a fit of giggles.

"Ah, you're awake! I did not think gods passed out yet here you are!"

Earthlings, as he would recall, has long regarded them as deities and there was no way to convince them otherwise. Jack rolled his eyes.

"How's the sick lady?"

"The Queen? She's just given birth!"

"That's great!"

"The King and Queen are expecting you. You are their most honoured guest and they would like you to bless their heir."

"Sure, I guess."

Jack followed the elderly scribe as he totted proudly along the hallway, they passed along the guards that helped him yesterday and they gave him a nod of acknowledgement but scowled at the sight of the pompous old man.

The scribe, again, led him to the most grandiose white French doors with intricate flower designs and this time, knocked and announced their presence. Once they were granted entrance, the King briskly walked up to him with wide open arms.

"My friend!" exclaimed the King, throwing all regal etiquette away for friendly familiarity and gave him a huge bear hug, "You have our eternal gratitude!"

"We never did get your name, Glorious One," the scribe huffed proudly and the King let him down.

"I am the First Crown Prince Jackson of the Lunar Court – err, that was weird introducing myself," he said and scratched the back of his head, "But you can call me, Jack."

"So, it is true that you are of the Blessed Ones?" the Queen said barely above a whisper.

"I suppose you can say I'm not from here" replied Jack as he shrugged.

"You came from the Pillar of Light!" said the scribe enthusiastically.

"It was horrible. I think I'm going to be sick again…" Jack moaned as his stomach lurched, he rested a calming hand over it.

Just then, a little cry was heard and the Lunar Prince brought his attention to the little bundle of soft pink flesh that nestled at her mother's arms.

Her pale blue eyes ogled at Jack as she cooed. Reaching out to him, he offered her his forefinger which she instinctively grasped. He noticed a tuft of platinum blonde hair and Jack looked curiously at her parents, his head swinging back and forth.

"As long as she is healthy and alive, I have no further qualms," the mother said quietly, responding to his worry, "Say hello, my darling Elsa."

As if on cue, the forefinger Jack offered to the little baby was covered by frost. He was certain that did not come from his own magical core, so that could only mean…

_Oh, no._

_I lied._

_This is where our story _truly _begins…_

**-x-**

I had fun writing this and I hope you had fun reading it. Whew, 5000+ words in just one chapter.

Stay tuned for more!

(I'll try.)

Oh, I'll be going on a trip this month with my friends (Google Puerto Prinsesa and its underground river!) so I might not update any time soon but I'll still love you for your reviews! I really need them. Let me know if I'm doing this right.

I wanted to do something to what the author of Harry Potter & The Fifth Element, _bexis1_, has accomplished. It was basically a montage of pop culture and fandoms jammed packed into an explosion references. Its beautiful and complex story and you should read it whether you ship H&Hr or not.

Final Fantasy IV - I saw the parallel with Jack Frost and Cecil Harvey, as well as Rosa Joanna Farrell and Queen Elsa. The white-haired moon dude and the royal blonde. As well as Theodor, the English name of Cecil and Rosa's son Ceodore (who was named after his uncle Theodor AKA Golbez) in game's sequel Final Fantasy IV: The After Years.

Final Fantasy VIII - for the Centra Ruins. I think I'll be referencing locations with a lot of Final Fantasy. Because I love Final Fantasy. Final Fantasy nuff' said.

The Ancient Alien theory (I'm a huge sci-buff) - I just love this take on the super natural deities with religion.

Tangled- The King watching over his ill wife and making her drink a magic... um, drink.

Harry Potter - "Up to no good."

Scooby-Doo- _Watcheroo, where are you?_

The Watcher - was patterned after a Dementor (Harry Potter) and Vivi Ornitier (Final Fantasy IX) and I made him lovable. Wasn't he just lovable?


	2. Oneshot: Moonlight Waltz

I'm glad this story is well-received unlike previous ones (well, granted that VaynexJess is a really tiny fandom while my other stories were done when I was… what? 14? 10 years ago?! Golly, I'm old.) So I am well aware that 20+ reviews for just one chapter are A LOT. Not to mention the 50+ favorites and 70+ follows, but I appreciate the reviewers a tad lot more since they did take that extra time to share what they think about my piece which helps me shape myself as a writer.

I'm awfully glad many of you are pleased with my writing style, I'm quite proud of it as I really worked hard on it, especially the fact that English isn't my mother tongue (though I like to think that I'm legally adopted). You guys didn't mind the time loop? I have such brilliant readers. You'll be seeing a lot of time loops. I'm fond of them. Keeps you guys on your toes.

As for this one though, please be advised that I wrote this on a whim and I haven't really thought how I wanted to go along so I ask for your patience. I could never present something lackluster and half-hearted or I would rather not present anything at all, I'm artsy that way. So if you stay for the periodic whirlwind of emotional whiplash, I thank you. If not, I thank you for your time.

Alas, yet again. I have another apology. This isn't the Moon Cake series (I hate making titles; I was inspired by the Chinese New Year at the time) but I AM working on it though. I never thought people will like it so much now I have a lot of you to disappoint. This is another writing experiment, a bit lighter this time around (for me since I didn't use much fancy words) but somewhat dark. You'll see. The title itself is Star-Crossed with a minimalist summary of "their love in different life times". All I could ask is for you to hopefully enjoy it. If not, I would appreciate knowing why. But… TA-DAH! SchoolAU! I've always wanted to try it out. Plus, I'm setting this SchoolAU! With the Japanese educational system, sorta, since I have no idea how other countries does it. I'm pretty sure you guys aren't interested with the Philippines' educational system (I know I'm not, so glad I'm done with school, yuck).

There's a reason why this is rated M but I'm not ready to write smut (._. ) No. Not yet. I can't. I'd die with a smile on my face.

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything (literally) and they all belong to their respective conglomerates.**

**The plot, at least, is mine. Also characters that you don't think belong anywhere.**

I dedicate this:

To my valiant and loyal rabbit, Maximo Aurelius Von Figaro (Fifi for short) for our arguments over who gets to lounge at the sofa as to both of us hates sharing. He's always proving how such manly buck he is and it's hard to take him seriously with such a fuzzy face, wiggly nose and bread loaf-like body. Oh, yeah, I'm your doe.

To Elsa Regina Regalia Suprema Septima da Bernini, the rabbit I found outside our house (only to be retrieved by the owner two days later), our time together was short but I hope you felt loved during our care. I never should have named you Elsa, since, damn, I had to let you go. Talk about jinxing it.

To the Jack Frost x Elsa fans; keep on believing, brethren! Always source the art to the fanart-ist, never plagiarize and try not to hate each other. Let's be all, nice and good friends. To everyone who enjoyed this, I love you. I mean it.

To Nikai & Kim, you guys are probably my biggest fans right now but you're terrible betas. I still love you though. And Kim, just because I don't use emoticons means I'm mad. I just don't like using emoticons while chatting.

To Sheena, I hate our job but thank god you're suffering with me, Beshieboo (yuck).

To Cali, we should drink until we die before you migrate to Las Vegas. F**k you and your KONAMI internship.

For Arialene (author of the Frostbitten series) the awesome-st; my friends asavioury, legendary-fangirl, foreverdelighted (especially you! YES YOU.), Clear Eyes, TheTwentyNineth, StrongGyu, knightsquall, Jipzuru, wickedgreenphantom, starmageasuka, OniNoKo, aelfethart, storm-studio, Jinski, Miki Fubuki, and everyone else of The Winter Court. Guys, please chat/PM me. I like making new friends. :)

**-x-**

The Imperial Academy harbors a lush and colorful history that almost equals the grandiose halls and extravagant high ceilings. The castle-esque boarding school was set in the middle of acres upon acres of plush greenery fastidiously kept up by the most skillful horticulturists. Built during the Victorian Era, the school management maintains the crisp atmosphere of that period to indulge the students in sophisticated grace and the exquisite air of aristocracy befitting of their most fortunate birthright; these were the children of the old nobility or the currently most influential, the children whose parents could very well be the driving pivot of today's modern history, the children of whom will most likely inherit the legacies of their heritage.

The huge, burly and gruff Headmaster, Nicholas St. North, believed that such children granted with enormous power and influence should be meticulously taught responsibility and accountability; such children were destined for greatness but they to understand that greatness must come with compassion; Machiavellian approaches are inevitable but must be avoided as much and as long as possible. He was brought up with the Marxist ideal, but even he came to realize later in life that the caste system that society is so obstinately fond of cannot be easily eradicated by usurping the selfish nobles, the once painful smear in every Cossacks' farfetched dream of wholesome equality.

The Philosophy of Nicholas St. North derived from "usurping the selfish nobles" to simply "usurping the selfish". He is sadly aware that the adults are a lost cause, too deep in their own desires for the world that most of them are beyond help. However, the children, he believed, were the future. He believed that if the future was a horrible place then it was their failure as adults to not have inculcated the lessons in life that truly mattered. He was passionate in educating these students in the arts of business, politics and etiquette without selling their soul and humanity to the corporate and capitalist demon overlord, that it's the people that shouldered it that mattered and not just profit.

But Nicholas St. North wasn't a delusional fool; he is bitterly aware that most of the pompous parents only enroll their youngsters to take advantage of the excellence of his educational facility, that most bratty children has been instructed to build strong connections with the prominent families in high hopes of building easier and stronger business partnerships, or grant their snooty children the bragging rights of receiving their diploma from such an exclusive alma mater.

No matter, he is still optimistic that if one of them were to at least feel guilty with bad and biased decisions, he's utterly convinced that his role is fulfilled.

He took a deep breath and gazed upon them adoringly. It was the start of another term and his beloved students were dressed in their crisp blue and white uniforms. He could name each and every one of them; he can also discern who was nice and who was naughty, and whose penmanship was breathtakingly marvelous.

"WELCOME!"

His deep voice boomed and resonated across the auditorium, sending excruciating scratching feedback throughout the sound system that assaulted the students' ears; some of them twitched and cringed while the others, who were unfortunately seated within the proximity of the dolby speakers, dramatically clasped their hands against their ears with a matching cry of pain. Soon after, some of the students were twisting their littlest fingers in their ears, praying to the great and glorious heavens above that their poor, innocent and defenseless ear drums has not been ruptured. He chuckled and waved his hands in apology then continued on with his speech.

**-x-**

"Elsa, I'm hungry," as Anna shifted in her seat while twirling the braids of her strawberry-blonde hair, uninterested with the whole ordeal since she can't even see the Headmaster; the blonde boy sitting in front of her was huge.

Elsa internally groaned as she knew this would happen. Anna was tremendously thrilled with the start of the new term that she stayed up daydreaming about her perfect high school romance and yapping about it until Elsa was able to block her out and get some sleep, a feat attainable only through years of practice and sharing a room with the aforementioned Anna.

Elsa couldn't fathom how Anna continued to daydream about the said perfect high school romance last night… instead of actually sleeping to; at least, dream about her perfect high school romance was beyond what Elsa can logically deduce. Her sister was a raging ball of energy, but like everything else in life, nothing lasts forever because at some point during the wee hours of that night (or maybe perhaps the break of dawn), Anna had finally drifted off to sleep.

The peaceful slumber was predictably short-lived, however, when Elsa had to gently shake her awake to prepare themselves for their long trip to the secluded school as soon as the bright and brilliant morning came. Anna cracked open an eye heavily drenched in sleep, to see her elder sister of three years her senior, neatly combed, dressed and _ready_.

It took a while and a lot of effort to pry Anna off her bed and another aching stretch of time to have her conscious long enough for the maids to assist her to tending herself. Once Anna had herself presentable and somewhat coherent, she dashed towards their main lobby, side-stepped the very last second to avoid crashing into a four-foot tall Chinese vase by a thin margin before heading out the main grand doors.

The patient chauffeur had already packed the sisters' luggage the night before inside the compartment of their vehicle; all he needed to complete his list of things-to-make-sure-to-drive-to-the-boarding-school was one of the two sisters. The eldest was already inside waiting and seemed to have a very lively text message conversation with someone on her smartphone; her thumbs rapidly skidding along the touchscreen while grinning ear to ear, a rare occurrence. The chauffeur sighed as he leaned his back against the vehicle. The drive was quite long and that it's imperative that he get these girls to school; safe and fast.

He bent a little bit closer to the door upon hearing a sound; thinking it might be the eldest of the Young Mistresses beckoning him.

Was that a giggle?

He was positive that he heard her giggle, another rare occurrence. A giggle, from what he understood from his own daughter, was a suppressed girly rush of emotions. He smiled to himself as he calmly shook his head… _teenagers._

The splendid central entrance burst open revealing the red-faced, huffing and puffing Youngest Mistress. He almost didn't notice the sudden scuttle of the other sister inside the car possibly hiding her phone from sight, almost since he nearly had a heart attack as Anna leapt off the marvelous steps then skipping some and sliding in seats of their limousine. Elsa gave her sister an unimpressed look for her childish recklessness and that samelook that always made Anna feel sheepish all the time.

_That look she was giving her now._

"That is what you get for waking up late," Elsa reprimanded, "You haven't gotten the chance to eat breakfast before we left home."

Anna bowed her head and looked up with pleading eyes.

Elsa sighed.

She _knew_ this would happen.

With that forethought in mind, she prepared some chocolate chip cookies that her sister can nibble on as the Start of the Term Commencement Program carried on. Elsa bent down to retrieve the zip lock bag she hid in her bag and gingerly offered them to Anna and had to stifle a laugh when her sister gave her a face of utter gratitude.

"Don't eat them all at once," Elsa said as she picked one up for herself, "These ceremonies can take a while."

"Those look delicious," said an older boy from behind leaning forward between the sisters' chairs.

"They are, Hans," said Elsa as she took a bite from her cookie, not really looking at him, "Would you care for some?"

"Don't mind if I do," as the said Hans turned to Anna and smiled, "May I?"

Anna was in cloud nine for Hans was impeccably handsome; he had a long face and manly jaw, a pointed but beautiful nose, thin lips made for kissing and dreamy eyes that you just want to get lost in to forever… Her heart thumped loudly against her chest and rang in her ears. Her hands were cold and clammy but her face was burning hot. She had to mentally slap herself to release a breath she doesn't remember holding in.

This was it, she thought; this would be her perfect high school romance. They would fall madly in love and get married, just like their parents' love story she was absolutely fanatical with.

"… and this is my sister Anna…"

Anna blinked for a moment upon hearing her name from what she vaguely recalls was her sister's voice but her mind quickly flew a thousand miles away as Hans gave her another fascinating smile.

"I'm charmed to meet you, Anna," as he offered her a chaste handshake and bit his cookie, "I've heard a lot about you from your sister."

"And you're charming," as Anna's face turned beet red after pronouncing the last syllable of her sentence, she babbled henceforth in a feeble attempt to save face but alas she kept digging her own grave, "I mean, I'm charmed too. I'm charming to meet you. My sister charmed me about your charm, too. Um, wait, what?"

Elsa massaged her temple with her fingers and fiercely fought back a pre-mature migraine as Hans struggled to keep laughing out more than what Anna can take.

"Your sister is absolutely adorable, Elsa," Hans said after he recovered, sending another pint of heated blood rushing towards Anna's face.

"Enough, Hans, anymore from you and my sister will pass out from embarrassment," Elsa said after finishing the last piece of her chocolate chip cookie. Those things were absolutely divine; Gerda was a baking genius from heaven. The euphoria she was experiencing via cookie was not supplementing the annoyed disposition she was trying to portray.

"Alright, moving forward," Hans stated, "Have you received my text message earlier?"

Elsa visibly stiffened and this does not go unnoticed by Anna.

"Sis…?"

"Can't we just discuss this at the Student Council meeting later on? This isn't the place to discuss such… trivialities," Elsa said, her expression unreadable, "There's a time and place for everything."

Anna suddenly remembered Elsa saying something about her joining the Student Council this year and was the reason why she spent most of her summer vacation at school. Apparently, Elsa worked hard to attain such a position for the privilege that Anna can share a room with her in the dormitory reserved only for the elected members. Elsa was an extremely popular figure in the high school department, not at all surprising since she was intelligent, graceful and exquisitely stunning; she had admirers of boys and girls alike. Anna even heard rumors about clubs dedicated for her sister's fan base. She was even popular in the younger grades; there was a Junior High and Middle School chapter of the said club. Unsurprisingly, Elsa won by a landslide during the polls.

Regardless of all that attention, Elsa remains a lone wolf. She's cooperative and easy to work with and mostly civil with those who greets her along the hallway but she would rather either head off to library or her secret place at the courtyard to do some bit of light reading about geometry or stay inside her dorm room to quietly drink her tea with some pastries Gerda, bless her soul, had sent over; though Anna is very thankful that her sister would rather share a room with her, whether at home or at school even if it went against her solitary nature and have gone great lengths to make it possible.

Not once that she felt that she was under Elsa's shadow. Her sister was an evident hard worker, not because she was raised that way but because it was how Elsa wanted to be. She was always critical about herself and how she wanted to achieve things. She was determined to take over the family business and would never forgive herself if someone else would be more deserving. For Elsa, the family business was more of a family than it was business. Her father took her to work as often as he could and the little Elsa was the darling of every employee.

"Of course, Elsa," Hans soothed, "Forgive me."

Elsa gave a curt nod to no one in particular and suddenly the conversation died down. Hans sat properly unto his seat and Anna continued to ration her cookies as the hour ticked by. Nicholas St. North continued to fervently express himself by waving his arms along with his speech regarding the importance of the youth embodying compassion.

Suddenly, a buzzing sound was heard and Elsa reached down to pat her pocket, her cellphone was vibrating.

"Excuse me," she said as she tried to stand up and move down the aisle, "This might be important."

"Come back quickly," Hans said, "We have to stand on stage in a little while for the inauguration of the Student Council members."

"I'll see."

"Could it be, Papa?" Anna asked as she stood up as well, "Should I come with you?"

"No, you stay," Elsa pleaded as she held up her hand, "If it is Papa then we'll call him later after everything is over but for now, let me see whom this is, alright?"

"Okay," Anna nodded and sat down, stealing a longing glance at Hans.

"I won't be long, Anna," as the elder daintily patted her sibling's head. "Behave."

"Hm? Oh, I can take care of myself. It's not like I'm going anywhere, you know?" Anna groaned as she narrowed her eyes at her sister, awfully irked with her overprotectiveness, "Go on, sister dearest. Scat."

Anna made shooing gestures at Elsa.

Elsa raised an elegant eyebrow and pinched Anna's cheek for which her sister retaliated by playfully swatting her pale hand away.

**-x-**

The platinum blonde made her way outside the rear area of the auditorium and ran across the open courtyard then hid behind a tree where she usually reads her books alone; she took out her phone and tapped her screen and brought it to life, the call just ended before she was able to answer.

She knew it wasn't their father calling.

_17 missed calls._

Elsa giggled and checked who that perpetrator was despite already knowing who it was, she's been texting him all morning.

"That idiot," she sighed as she swiped the screen to try and call the number back.

"Who're you callin' an idiot, you idiot?" said a very familiar deep and masculine voice out of nowhere.

He sounded very annoyed.

He was going to pay for that, a thought that brought a cheeky smile upon her glossy lips.

Elsa whipped her head around to find the voice and looked up at a familiar Birch tree. She saw the face that she's been looking forward to see after summer, the face that visits her dreams every night, the face she wants to punch right now for almost blowing her cover; something _he_ adamantly insisted in the first place.

"How _dare_ you call me an idiot?" Elsa pouted and wrapped her arms around herself, her demeanor changing dramatically, "And you dyed your hair again. I like your brown hair."

"You called me an idiot first and I can do whatever I want," the owner of the voice replied as he jumped off the branch of the tree, there was a soft thump after his landing and he quickly stood up, briskly strode towards her to grab her shoulders and pull her into a deep and languid kiss which she immediately responded by returning his longing.

She caressed his face before slowly feeling down his shoulders with the other hand travelling up his nape and lastly running her fingers through his silver hair. Her actions were rewarded with a grunt of approval and he pushed her back against the trunk of the tree. His hands feverishly rubbed her sides and she began to feel light-headed.

"Seventeen missed calls, Jack?" she gasped as his lips moved to her neck and lick the sensitive skin behind her ear. She involuntarily dug her nails at his shoulders.

"So your boyfriend is an idiot for terribly missing you?" his hot breath against her ear, he was driving her crazy and it was so difficult to muster a coherent thought at the moment, "It should have been seventy-seven, I swear I redialed as much."

"You do know you're not _just_ my boyfriend right?" just as he was about to answer, she clawed his shirt and silenced him with an intensely hungry kiss.

**-x-**

"What is taking her so long?" Hans tapped Anna's shoulders.

Anna felt her cheeks burn again, this was becoming quite painful.

"I wouldn't know," she shrugged not looking at him, "Must be a really long phone call."

Hans didn't respond, he just leaned back, crossed his arms and had a pensive look on his face. Anna, in turn, dearly held very last piece of her cookie, the remaining chocolate baked goodness of her sister's salvation. She was having in internal debate whether or not she should gobble the entire thing now or wait at least a little later on. Her blue eyes glanced at the Russian Headmaster; he was pounding his fist against the podium to emphasize each syllable with absolutely no sign of letting up any time soon. She held up her cookie at eyelevel and patted her grumbling stomach.

_"Why does everything in life have to be so hard?!"_ Anna screamed in her head as she shut her eyes tight.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Anna opened her eyes to see the concerned face of the towering boy in front of her.

"I'm okay," she replied and as if on cue, her stomach gave another rumble.

"Gimme a sec," he hummed as took something from his backpack, a small plastic container with a bright yellow lid. He pried it open to and offered it to her, "I hope you don't mind carrot sticks."

"I can eat anything right now!" exclaimed Anna as she happily picked one, setting her last cookie back into the zip lock pouch for dessert.

"Well, then. Help yourself," the boy chuckled, "The Headmaster can do this for hours."

"No kidding!" Anna sarcastically said as she crunched on her carrot and gestured at the stage, "I don't even know what Santa Claus is talking about anymore."

"Hmm, probably something about reindeers are better than people," the boy humored as he took a piece from his own container and bit a half of it.

Anna choked and was fanning her face with her hands in panic. The boy dropped his carrot stick and quickly reached over to turn Anna sideways with one strong arm, he then geared his large hand backwards and slapped the petite girl's back as gently as he could but with enough force to help her chuck the obstruction out of her pipe.

Anna coughed up some carrot pieces unto Elsa's empty chair as Hans stared in silent disgust.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Anna gasped as she caressed her throat then swatted his hefty arm in mock anger, "Don't be funny when I'm eating! I'll die!"

"I'll keep that in mind for the next time," and he offered his hand into a handshake, "I'm Kristoff, by the way."

"Is that short for…?" she probed, taking in his hand with her own. They were massive; it was amazing how his earlier actions didn't hurt her… much.

"Nope," he went on again to grab his container and proffered it her way, "Just Kristoff."

"Just checking," she reached over to grab another carrot stick, "I'm Anna."

"Is that short for…?" Kristoff parroted as he stuffed an entire stick in his mouth and gave her a boyish smile.

"Nope," Anna giggled, "Just Anna."

"Just checking," Kristoff laughed.

"So, what year are you in?"

"I'm a senior."

"Ah, the same year as my sister, Elsa, then?"

"Yes, but not the same class. In more ways than one." he gave another laugh, "And I'm guessing you're a freshman since I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, I'm-"

"Elsa, what took you so long?"

Anna turned her head to the annoyed voice of Hans but doubled back to find her sister staring at her seat; she followed Elsa's gaze to down her disregarded half-chewed carrots. Anna gave her sister a sheepish expression and motioned the bitsy fragments to the end of the chair until they fell onto the floor. A red-faced Elsa sat and had just now deliberately ignored Hans' repetitive questions about where she had been.

"Why is your face so red?" Anna placed her hand on her sister's forehead, "Elsa, you're burning! Do you have a fever?"

"I'm fine, Anna," Elsa gulped, fuelling Anna to find out more what was going on with her sister.

Last summer, Anna encountered a flustered Elsa a lot more than she was able to count, which used be a really rare occurrence. Despite them being close and almost inseparable, Elsa is keen to keep things to herself in whereas Anna was an open book. She had learned to accept that her elder sibling will always stay reserved and somewhat stoic at times, that is why it was so intriguing to find out the reason on why sometimes Elsa would emerge for their library exceedingly flushed in the face with the tip of her ears bright red. After some relentless nagging, Elsa finally dismissed her that she was all ruffled from the stress and stir with the upcoming term since she was going to be part of the Student Council, something she had to stay behind at school during her summer for. Anna hunched that though the expression on her sister's face really wrought that she was annoyed with whatever the Student Council wanted her to do, but was there something more to that?

A _boy_ maybe?

It was unlikely but not impossible. After all, her sister was attractive and enigmatic, quite a prize for any hot-blooded teenage guy but she had always been so verbal that she was against petty high school romance…

Although she seemed to say it with a lot less conviction recently than how she had done so in the past…

But everything was all too suspicious!

"So, Elsa?" Anna cocked her head to the side, "Who was it?"

"I'm sorry, I'm confused," Elsa glanced at Anna then planted her eyesight at the Headmaster, "Who was who, Anna?"

"That was a pretty long call."

"Oh, oh! Right…" as Elsa fidgeted with her hands, "Father says hi."

"It was really Papa?" Anna wasn't buying it, "What else did he say?"

"That we should probably- Oh? Hello there." Elsa looked up at Kristoff who appeared to be listening to their awkward conversation; she noticed that he was holding up a container full of carrot sticks, "You're Mr. Bjorman, aren't you?"

"I seriously didn't think you know me, Miss Arendelle," as Kristoff scratched the back of his head.

"I do try to know everyone's name especially the people in my year," she waved his uneasiness off, "What kind of President would I be if I didn't?"

"Well…" Kristoff was thoroughly overwhelmed, "I'm pretty sure you'll do great."

"Thank you very much. I suppose you've already met my little sister, Anna?" as Elsa glanced over to her sister and did a double-take, surprised by her apprehensive look, "Since, um, you're the source of her _other_ snack…"

"Yeah, that's Kristoff here," Anna leaned across her sister to grab another carrot stick and loudly whispered, _"This isn't over yet, Elsa."_

Elsa stared at her sister wide eyed as she smugly bit off a carrot. The senior of the two was well aware that the younger was naïve, but not stupid. She was also a little bit too curious for her own good. The elder Arendelles; namely her mother, father and her, always pray to the dearest, most benevolent heaven above for the well-being of the youngest Arendelle, expecting an aftermath of a raging storm whenever she executes one of her many crazy ideas.

"I don't know what you're accusing me of, _Anna_."

The die has been thus cast, and the platinum blonde's last ace was feigning anger, something she seldom exercised against her younger sister but this was her final death thrash.

"I think you do have an idea of what you think I'm accusing you of, _Elsa."_

"Enough, Anna..."

Elsa involuntarily brought her hand to the side of her where, the side where…

**-x-**

"Jack… please…," she breathed as she gently tugged his hair, "Please… _no marks_."

"Mmm… " he ignored her plea and continued to nip and suck that base of her neck; his dominant hand was caressing her back while the other was firmly against her bum, pressing her against him.

This was supposed to be a secret.

A secret that Jack insisted for some strange reason Elsa had a hard time to comprehend, honestly. She couldn't understand why they couldn't be open with their relationship despite acknowledging his reason. It will be better that way, instead of all this pent up sexual frustration that explodes whenever they do have the rare chance to be alone together.

Still, Elsa wasn't ready to explain any physical evidence that would point out their very intimate relationship…

…and _how_ intimate they can be.

"_Damn_..."

A deep, rippling vibration elicited from his throat and then he hissed, "Did my good little girl just curse?"

It was always like this.

Jack made her feel in ways she hadn't before, somewhat relative to her past experiences but not quite and she wants to continue to explore these feelings, these inexplicable sensations that seem to drown her reason into oblivion. She sometimes surprises herself on how receiving she was towards his advances and how the mere glimpse of her would light him on fire.

He was peppering her lips with light kisses, too chaste for her current craving mood. She pushed herself up against his abdomen, met his half-lidded eyes with a dazed look on her own and gently bit his lower lip; retreating slowly, her teeth grazing over his lip while her tongue tasted him and they never broke their eye contact.

She was provoking him, a challenge she had done multiple times last summer and he, in return, avoided just as much.

_Oh, God._

Despite having such an alluring heated vixen practically writhing under his touch, Jackson Overland Frost knew better than to take advantage of the situation. As much as he wants to surrender to his carnal desires and be the man he was born to be, he simply loves this woman way too much to take her here and now, or any time soon for that matter. Although if he was completely honest with himself, this wouldn't be the first time he was on the verge of submitting to such a delectable invitation but anything subpar than what she rightfully deserves was utterly unacceptable.

It took all of Jack's will-power to retract his tongue that vigorously danced with hers, an exasperated whimper escaped from her swollen lips. Another parting kiss upon her lips, then on her forehead as a sign of his withdrawal, he carefully embraced her with one hand at the back of her head against his chest and the other encircled around her waist; this is what he does when he decides they should cool down a bit from their frenzied passion.

Too caught up in the heat of the moment, she struggled in determination to keep the fire inside her burning ablaze; it took a while for Elsa to realize his silent appeal to discontinue their affectionate pursuit. It was surely very thoughtful of him, but it was beginning to gnaw some doubt in her ability to seduce her own lover. Then again, that strange little prodding against her hip proved otherwise. She nestled her face on his chest, drawing in his enthralling scent of peppermint chocolate and listened to the erratic rhythm of his heart.

"I missed you," she quietly muttered.

Jack breathed out a rather loud sigh and held her tighter as he needed to feel that she was real. It only had been a week since they last saw each other but it truly felt like forever. Every moment without her was a dull ache that ate him from the inside out. He roamed his hands on her lithe form, savoring every dip and curve into memory. He could never get over how soft she was; fragile and delicate, like a flower in bloom. He breathed her in, allowing her scent to fill the gaps in his lungs.

"I missed you too, like crazy," he cooed, "but as much as I want to keep you for myself, I'm afraid I can't."

"You mean, _not yet_," she corrected him; a sultry smile graced her lovely face.

"_Not yet,"_ he restated and captured her lips again, "Perhaps soon?"

"Very soon," she answered as they untangled themselves from one another.

**-x-**

"…very soon."

Elsa blinked, "What?"

Hans scrunched his face in exasperation and Elsa felt that familiar twist in her gut, oh how much she wanted to settle her score with him now but chose to level herself like how she was taught, like what Jack had advised.

"I said that we're about to be called upon very soon."

"I understand," she replied in a blasé manner.

Anna fidgeted with the swift development of friction between her sister and Hans; she decided to cease teasing her sister for now and consume the last piece of chocolate chip cookie she saved up earlier. She snapped it in half and offered the other piece to Elsa, which she declined by smiling and holding a hand up. Anna opted to share the cookie with Kristoff, who gingerly took it from her petite hands and gobbled the entire thing.

"Thanks! My mother wouldn't let me have sweets," he responded at Anna's stunned expression and Elsa's curious stare, "She's really huge on the healthy stuff."

"I don't judge," was Anna's attempt to relieve his awkwardness and patted his shoulder.

Elsa's mind wandered back to Jack again, her eyes inspecting every head for a tuft of white hair among the sea of students. She longed to sit next to him and quietly hold hands, the simple pleasures at least while in public. Elsa objected being secretive with her relationship with Jackson Frost, but he thought otherwise. It wasn't as if he was ashamed of her, more like he was ashamed with himself and would hate to have her name dragged along the mud. Elsa insisted that he was a good person who made bad choices because no one guided him, not that it mattered anyway. The past was simply in the past, although it haunted Jack every so and so. There were days where he felt he didn't deserve to feel such happiness with her; he would also confess that there are random twinges of guilt at times that his sanity was anchored to her, and he that he wouldn't be surprised if she would leave him in favor of another.

Just like every other person in his life, although she vowed that she was his as much as he was hers.

He was Jackson Frost, bastard son of the business mogul Winston Frost of the Frost Enterprises and a nameless prostitute who blackmailed his father for quite a sum of money into keeping him. His birth was a scandal in itself and Winston had to silence those who dared ruin his reputation as the benevolent philanthropist with money shoved down their throats, just like his mother. His father was a calloused man with a penchant for alcohol who believed that men needed iron in their backs in order to survive and lead a household, a principle that was passed down from his fathers before him. He would physically reprimand Jack with an iron fist; or an iron rod if necessary.

The servants avoided him like a plague, not aspiring to get on Winston's bad side. He would chastise anyone who showed the boy compassion or any _weakness_. He wanted Jack to grow up relentless and merciless as he was, because such faults are a disadvantage in business, a dog eat dog world in glittering gold and custom-made pinstripe suits. You have to overpower those flimsier than you are and suck them high and dry, be the richest to afford the greatest accountants and lawyers who danced naked in the palm of your hand.

Jack did grow up cold and dangerous. He was the first to start fights, even with those twice as he is, and became uncontrollable. He tried everything to fill the void that his father had painstakingly carved in his heart.

His change didn't happen overnight nor did they fall in love on sight but she held on who he was and he would cling on who he can become for her.

Despite their initial problems, neither of them wanted to let go.

_Never._

She was already saturated in nostalgia when she began recalling that night _three summers_ ago, that night they met _again_ where the dancing neon lights were blinding and casted shadows from drunken men that had their arms around women in very little clothing. The humid air was drenched in smoke, sex and sin.

There was also heavy music blaring everywhere and caused her ears to ring in tinnitus. She followed the wounded boy with white hair; despite her chauffeur's warning, into this very alleyway where she tended to him delicately and he experienced kindness after a very long while.

**-x-**

"What're you lookin' at?" he spat out blood, squatted against the wall and took a puff on his cigarette, "A _Princess_ like you don't belong in a place like this. Go back to your posh life, _Princess_."

She took out her white handkerchief with beautiful snowflake embroideries and paused to hold her hand up for his permission. He eyed her like a wild animal for a moment and looked away again for another puff of his cigarette. She carefully wiped the blood and grime off his face as gently as she could and would stop if he winced in pain.

"I remember you," she spoke, "You're Jack Frost."

"The hell, I am," he scoffed, "Do you do this often? Clean up strangers' faces?"

"No," she cooed as she tried to rub particularly stubborn patch of dried blood on his face. She coiled a clean portion of her soiled handkerchief around her forefinger and dabbed it in her tongue. Upon approving on the right amount of moisture on the cloth, she continued to gently graze it over his stained skin, "You're not a stranger. We've met before, you had brown hair back then."

"Who do you think _you_ are?!" he snarled as he eyed her but couldn't see her very well since his brows were swollen. His head was throbbing and everything else was aching. He was hurt emotionally more than anything right now, what was new? His gang had sold him out and left him for easy pickings for the rival group. Got a hell of a beating, he did. He could say that the baseball bats they carried deserved all the credit for the world of pain he was in right now. But Jack bets whatever's left of him that his own daddy dearest would definitely rip him a new one if he came home like this.

Now this chick is taking pity on him. It was one crazy night.

"I've always loved your story, _Moonlight Waltz_," she continued unfazed by his outrage, "Do you remember?"

He blinked and furrowed his thick brows together in trying to recall a synapse in his memories. He did remember that atrocious title and the bizarre girl who called out to him the very last minute his young life was just about to collapse. He visibly relaxed and allowed her to clean his mess up.

"Heh, only one who truly did," he quietly muttered and tried to focus his eyes to see how much she had grown, but alas, his swollen brows really made it tedious.

"Are you… Are you still sad as before?" she asked anxiously.

He didn't speak but she could tell that he wasn't, at least not for now.

She was on her way home from Anna's favorite pastry shop on a late Saturday night when they almost ran over a boy. Her chauffeur was quick enough to hit the breaks in the nick of time and honked his horn in frustration. The boy squint his eyes at the glaring headlights then slammed his hands down against the hood of the car in retaliation and held up his fingers in an obscene gesture. He continued running down the alley when a group of larger young men with baseball bats chased him.

It took one look for Elsa to recall the boy's name despite the blinding headlights that drowned in his pale skin; a boy she knew by name and his composition, _Moonlight Waltz_. He was _back_.

"If memory serves me right," Jack finally teased and flicked his cigarette butt offhandedly, "your name is…"

**-x-**

"_Elsa! Yoo-hoo!_"

Elsa snapped out of her reverie to see Anna's blurred face in such close proximity, hovering barely inches hers. The elder blinked a few times, trying to process the situation while Anna blew out a puff of air against her sister's face. The blonde released a pathetic yelp and lightly shoved her little sister's head out of her sight, all lady-like grace forgotten. Anna clumsily fell on her chair as she clutched her stomach in fits of laughter, Elsa following suit with one of her hand over lips and the other also holding on to her mid-section.

Kristoff, along with the other boys within seating vicinity, watched the Arendelle sisters act disbelievingly adorable.

Was this even _legal_?

"I absolutely _hate_ it when you do that!" Elsa reprimanded weakly, still quivering from her bout of laughter.

"Serves you right for daydreaming!" Anna guffawed then pointed up the stage, "Get going! Your friend, Hans, is about to throw a fit! Your turn to be called on stage, _Prez!_"

Elsa stood up but suddenly looked downcast and muttered to herself, "He's _not_ my friend."

"What was it?" Anna asked leaning in to hear whatever it was her sister murmured.

"Nothing! I've got to go!" Elsa turned her heel, recovering her innate gracefulness and glided up where Nicholas St. North just called her name introducing her to the entire student body as their new Student Council President.

Everyone applauded after the Headmaster finished introducing the finest of Imperial Academy. High above the auditorium cat walk, a lanky figure sat haphazardly along the steel beams. His sight fixated on Elsa's immaculate face, licking his lips upon remembering her delectable taste. His fingers tingled to touch her supple body and make her writhe under his tender ministrations; to kiss and to knead her until she's reduced into nothing but sweet sensations.

Jack Frost frowned when his view of Elsa was obstructed by the massive Headmaster as they stood side by side for a photograph to commemorate the event taken by a handful of his fellow students, possibly the yearbook committee. _Finally_, the Start of the Term Commencement Program was _done_. It took a moment for his girlfriend to emerge behind the Headmaster and she elegantly made her way down the stage and attempted a beeline back at her sister, only to be obstructed by a sea of students, most were undeniably her admirers who came up to wish her good luck for the coming term.

He only had eyes for her.

Surrounded by a mass of people and most were girls who dressed provocatively than she, but Elsa was all Jack could see.

All that he could ever want.

Jack felt that the day Fate finally smiled down upon him was the day he crossed Elsa's thoughts. He had to admit that it was a peculiar _first_ encounter. She was drawn to him; to his sadness, to his macabre, to his story.

**-x-**

_Moonlight Waltz  
>by Jackson Frost<em>

There was once a kingdom that no longer exists, at least not anymore.  
>The city walls have long caved in but still carry faint undertones of the lives that previously flourished inside.<br>In that forgotten place, there is a cloaked woman who sings a very sad song;  
>A song that had been sung by her mother before her while dancing mournfully in the Moon's silvery light, to carry on their forefather's vengeance.<br>A reminder to those who happen to hear it and the most likely audience are unwilling travelers who avoid the ruins like a plague.  
>A sad reminder of transient happiness.<p>

Our story begins with a bard who was happy and content with his life,  
>He was a devoted father to a daughter and a loving husband to a beautiful wife.<br>They lived simply, ate three square meals a day and had time for each other.  
>Whenever inspiration fills him, he would grab his lute and sing a song where his daughter and wife would dance along to.<br>Sometimes, the townspeople would dance along with the daughter and wife to join in the merriment and the happiness moved his heart into singing wonderful lyrics that swayed in enchanting melodies.

The King of the kingdom, however, was a very bitter and cruel man.  
>He hated bright and colorful bursts of hues.<br>He hated sweet things, hated smiles, hated everyone else and most of all, he hated himself.  
>The King's heart was almost non-existent and soul was black as the darkest, starless night.<p>

One day, he heard of the bard that brought much joy to people and commanded the guards to bring him in his presence.  
>The bard knelt and bid the King, "Good morrow, Your Majesty!"<br>The King quickly threw his crown at him,  
>"Nothing is good about the morrow! Nothing ever is! I've grown tired of your pretentiousness, <em>bard<em>!"  
>The bard was bewildered,<br>"What have I done to upset My King?"  
>The King croaked,<br>"You have done nothing to uplift my spirits!"  
>The bard gave him a smile and positioned his lute to play,<br>"Your Majesty, I know a song that will do so!"  
>The King lunged at him, grabbed the lute and hit the bard's head,<br>"You fool! Your songs are happy! You're a fool for thinking that you're in a state of happiness!"  
>The bard pressed his hand against his head,<br>"But your majesty, I am."  
>The King picked up his battered crown and wore it on his head,<br>"Don't you know that if you're happy now, you'll have more to be sad about later on? That once you've exhausted your euphoria, you're left with nothing! Nothing but longing to gain what made you happy again!"  
>The bard reasoned,<br>"But my love for my wife and daughter is all I need, Your Majesty. I am content."  
>The King leered,<br>"Then sing me a song that would break my heart, if you fail, I will have your daughter drowned. If you manage, I will have your wife's throat slit. You have a week. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"  
>The bard grabbed the hem of the King's robe and begged,<br>"Your Majesty, please!"  
>The King kicked the bard aside,<br>"TAKE HIM AWAY!"

The bard had nothing to be sad about.  
>He racked his mind for every tragedy in his life but was overpowered the love of his family.<br>He does not have the heart to dwell in yesterday's tears when he had the radiance of tomorrow at his grasp.  
>Seconds turned to minutes, to hours, and finally on the last day the King has set him;<br>"My daughter will have to drown because I have failed,"  
>the bard woes at the Moon, as if a god.<br>It was so round and bright; its silvery light bathed him completely.  
>His wife came up to him with so much love in her eyes the way she always had for him.<br>She had witnessed how much her dearest husband has suffered from the King's impossible request.  
>He barely ate and had any proper sleep, he appeared as if he was dying but the wife knew that her husband has already died on the inside.<br>She had kissed him with all the love she always had for him,  
>"I love you and take care of our daughter,"<br>she said barely above a whisper.  
>She then drew a knife from behind her and slit her own throat in front of him.<br>It all happened too fast and the bard could only hear his dying wife's incoherent gurgles.  
>This was it, this was his sought of tragedy.<p>

The next day, the bard stood before the court of the sneering King with his daughter by his side,  
>and he sang his sorrow from his heart to his lips which etched the King's hollow heart.<br>The grief-stricken bard never ceased even when the Royal Guards had beaten him raw and was casted off to the dungeons.  
>He relished the darkness and continued his solemn refrain up to the last moment that the King had him beheaded for driving most of his fellow prisoners and a handful of guardsmen mad.<br>The moment his blood split to the loam, the kingdom had been cursed with famine, very little rainfall and other mishaps that slowly drove its people away.

The only one who remained was those who had nowhere to go.  
>One of these people, the King who stole happiness lay in his bedchamber old and forgotten.<br>He is now a King only by birth as his subject has long fled from him.  
>He couldn't even spare a person to stand over him as he withered away.<br>Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.  
>Too weak to even ask who it was, a young woman came in.<br>The King had thought that Death must have come and my, wasn't she very beautiful?  
>She gave him a smile and he in return could only smile with his eyes.<br>And then, she began to sing the sad song of her father.

The King's old eyes widen, began to tear up and he opened his mouth but spoke no words.  
>He might have gone mad but he was too weak to act upon it.<br>He just laid there staring at the Moon from his enormous window on his luxurious bed as a prisoner in his own body and unable to flee from the young woman who came by his room every day to sing a sad song about transient happiness.

**-x-**

"That was..." his teacher stammered, confused on how a 12-year-old could compose such a _peculiar_ story in her English class in under 45 minutes, mind you. She heard rumors on how disturbed this boy was and was told by her colleagues to steer clear from crossing his father, "…brilliant. Good work, Mr. Frost. You can take your seat now."

Jack had purposely made his story as dark as he could, hoping that someone could at least have an inkling that he was as hollow as the King, as sorrowful as the Bard and unforgiving as the daughter. He was also the barren and disregarded kingdom as well as the people who wanted to run off. This was bits and pieces of who he currently was and Jack wrote what he couldn't say. But alas, he was brushed off again as another teenage mental case, like the many adults of his life.

Elsa watched him curiously as Jack made his way to his seat behind the rest of the class. Most of her classmates fear him while the others, mostly boys, like to taunt him a lot. She never spoke to him before since she had no reason to. They were in a huge class of forty and it was hard to keep track of everyone, not that she needed to. Especially that Elsa had to frequently visit the elementary department to keep Anna in line.

Other than social graces and apparent responsibilities, Elsa wouldn't really take the initiative to interact with anyone. She finds her personal silence comforting unless disturbed by the very few people she was lenient with. Jack Frost, as of today, was another story. Ever since he read his eerie piece out loud in front of the class, he piqued her interest.

Elsa did always love a good story.

She wanted to ask him how he came up with such a chilling theme.

The more she thought about the _Moonlight Waltz_, the more she thought about _Jack Frost_. Then began the day that she _only_ thought of Jack Frost and the consecutive days followed after. His eyes were sad and his voice was broken, surely there was more to the _Moonlight Waltz _than the author's _fiction_?

Even his name was fictional, she sadly smiled at the thought.

The realization blossomed where she wanted to approach him as he slouched on his seat, but at the very last moment, she thought better of it and would scoff their inevitable encounter for tomorrow then depart abruptly in a huff. This strange behavior does not go unnoticed by Jack, where he was actually looking forward to interacting with someone as _lovely_ as she was. Everyone knew who Elsa is but why would she take interest in him?

It wasn't news for Jack to skip class, but for this first time, Elsa was concerned. The strange fascination pestered her to intentionally miss second period and lead her to the school courtyard. During the past few days, she found out that Jack like to climb trees to escape the other boys from hounding him. The others were well inside their respective classrooms, the little blonde had herself excused to the nurse's clinic with the biased approval of her instructor.

She found his leg dangling from a Birch tree, swaying lazily to and fro like a pallid pendulum. Elsa tucked her skirt underneath her and sat at the base of the overlooking wooden guardian, she narrowed her eyes as looked up at the brilliant Tyndall effect where the sunlight danced around the pellucid surface of the leaves while some avoided the wreathed barriers appeared as svelte pillars of light that idly stroked the courtyard dirt. The gentle breeze whispered otherworldly prattles in their ears and playfully brushed their cheeks; she breathed in crisp, fresh air exhaled in an audible sigh to brace herself and made her presence known.

"Jack Frost?" she squeaked, her anxiety rising from addressing a near stranger, the two syllables rejoiced upon descending from her nubile lips.

She then heard a grunt, a curt acknowledgement to his name. She nervously twiddled her thumbs alternately over the other. The silence was unbearably awkward and the atmosphere dense between the two of them. Just as the fretful little girl was about to stand and flee…

_FLOP!_

Elsa's eyes widened ad squealed in surprise when something flashed before her sight. She gathered her knees and tucked her chin on top of them, she also had her arms over her head to protect her from whatever else that might fall from above.

Then she heard a tune that sent her back tingling in excitement.

_Jack Frost was laughing_.

She peeked with one eye and witnessed him jump over her and land his feet. He dusted his schoolboy shorts by patting his sides messily, doing more harm than good. He bent down and picked up what looked like a worn-out notebook. He looked at it fondly for a moment, and that moment made Elsa's heart thrashed loudly and she held her breath. Jack flipped through the pages indolently and gave the moleskin front cover a light pat, he then gripped it by the spine and held it out to her.

"You're the only one who likes it, so here!"

Elsa gingerly took the notebook and embraced it like a valuable keepsake. She looked at him and gave him a warm smile, from which he blushed and looked away from.

"This story is sad," she said, "Are… Are you sad too?"

He didn't speak but she could tell that he wasn't, at least not anymore.

Just as Jack Frost thought he finally found himself a friend, a huge scandal broke out a little than a month later about his Father's shady dealings with the local government. The little boy was abruptly withdrawn from the Academy and was strictly forbidden from leaving any trace; not e-mails, not mobile numbers or anything that could have them in contact with him, not that he had much to share it with except one. The father and son Frosts had to move to a far off place and hide for a while as elder Frost's private army of lawyers untangled his disgraceful mess.

Elsa was devastated but suffered silently. In times of her loneliness she would trace the letters of his penmanship from the worn out moleskin notebook, her most valued possession. Her melancholic heart singing her own sad refrain of the _Moonlight Waltz, _where Jack already wrote what they both felt.

She embraced herself as she gazed upon the full moon, ignoring the snores of her younger sister.

_She couldn't shake off the feeling that Jack Frost was going to be someone very important in her life._

**-x-**_  
><em>

**A/Ns:**

**So it's not technically a sad "ending" since you know they end up together in the end.  
><strong>

**Err… yeah. This was so ambitious.  
>So kindly review, tell me what you think. <strong>

**Lemme know if I'm doing this right or if you see any mistakes!  
>I'm no pro, I just to this for fun so I appreciate your feedback!<strong>

This chapter was loosely based on the manga; The Gentlemen's Alliance Cross by Arina Tanemura, Dogs: Bullets and Carnage by Miwa Shirow, Kino's Journey by Keiichi Sigsawa and GANGSTA by Kosuke. I also wanted to throw a bit of Maid-Sama! here too but that'll come later on, I think ;) None of those maids though since Elsa's loaded but the idea of the Student Council President being, uh, um, qwerty-ed by resident Bad Boy makes me go… whew!

My grandmother has the same four-foot tall Chinese vase. I've nearly knocked it down on too many occasions as a child even until now, actually (WHY PLACE IT NEAR THE DOOR?!).

Nicholas St. North's philosophy is mine. It's basically 'Love is the fulfillment of the Law' and it was my theme during an essay-writing contest way back in college which I won some money for. I spent it all in an all-you-can-eat buffet… alone… for two consecutive days.

I love Chocolate Chip Cookies. Chips Ahoy over Oreos, bishes.

"…bit of light reading…" – Harry Potter, Book 1.

Elsa being compared to a vixen is a heads up to starmageasuka's Celtic AU.

"…held her tighter as he needed to feel that she was real…" – Final Fantasy VIII, Ragnarok Scene Disc 3.

"…as much as I want to keep you for myself, I'm afraid I can't" – is my verbatim when I'm having too much fun talking with a customer for hours (I work as an outsource customer service representative while I'm waiting for my license).

Winston Frost & Frost Enterprises – Earth 616 Emma Frost's father and was just mean but the strained father and son relationship leaned more between Howard and Tony Stark, "iron in their backs". I am a huge Marvel fan too. Then again, there was Haine's strained relationship with her step-father, Kazuhito, in The Gentlemen's Alliance Cross. The idea of Jack's mother being a prostitute came from Worrick in GANGSTA, Ushio in The Gentlemen's Alliance Cross as well as Ian in Dogs: Bullets and Carnage.

I'm known for blowing air at people's faces. My friends hate it but I do it anyway just to annoy them. And no, I don't ship Elsanna but I do like it when they're acting all silly and sisterly and then guys goes all moe-moe.

I was part of the yearbook committee.

Jack sure does like high places.

_Moonlight Waltz –_ derived from "Waltz of the Moon" from Final Fantasy VIII. The idea of Elsa liking the sad story Jack has made as a child is a parallel between Haine and Takanari's "The Unforgettable Song of the Witch". Along with the alleyway scene, though it was between Haine and Shizumasa.

"There was once a kingdom that no longer exists, at least not anymore" from Katie Powell's short animation clip "The Girl Who Was Completely Forgotten by Everyone (even the postman)". Replace 'kingdom' with 'town'. It's my absolutely favorite flash animation clip ever, first watched it in Newgrounds, along with other amazing clips.

"Transient Happiness" – seems like a recurring theme for me. It was my philosophy about happiness during my angsty teenage days but the overall "Bard and the King" was again loosely based from the episode Land of Prophesies from Kino's Journey.

At present, they're 17. The alley scene happened at age 14 and the notebook thing was age 12.

Take a guess why Elsa was pissed with Hans, do you think he knows something?

**You thought this was a fun AU. Haha. No. Honestly, I thought the same thing too until the ideas came pouring out and I couldn't help myself. **

You're prolly wondering why my update took so long. I made the draft of the first chapter in November and posted it here in January, and that only had 5000 words while this, wow, I'm looking at it right now and its 10500, remove my ramblings I might have 9000 or so. I like to read and reread my work until I get my own say-so. I get embarrassed when I let others read my work before I think it's presentable.

**PS: I AM working on Chapter 2 of the Lunarians thingy but alas, it might take a while. Hahaha. I can only write when I can, which is very seldom.**


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